


Booksmart

by Multishipperlove



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Empire Siblings - Freeform, Gen, Mentions of childhood abuse, Mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multishipperlove/pseuds/Multishipperlove
Summary: There are some things Beau doesn't want people to know about her. Caleb doesn't understand, and yet he kinda does.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast
Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623151
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85





	Booksmart

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt:  
> 10 with Beau and Caleb for the platonic Empure siblings we all deserve?

“You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.”  
  
“What, booksmart?” Caleb asked, shifting his eyes from the book in front of him to Beauregard with a slightly confused expression.

She hadn’t done the same, her face still buried in the library book in her left hand, while the right one was slowly stroking through Frumpkin’s fur. The cat was purring loudly, hadn’t bothered to move in the last hour or so since he’d jumped up on her lap, other than lazily swishing his tail back and forth. Not even the small spheres of light that Caleb called up again every few minutes, with nothing but a flick of his wrist, seemed to disturbed him.

Beau rolled her eyes. Maybe she had been hoping that he _wouldn’t_ answer that particular statement, since their little study break conversation had been coming to an end anyway.

While discussing their current research over the last two blueberry muffins Beau had swiped from the kitchen that morning, right before they’d made their way to the library and _right_ under Caduceus’s nose, Caleb had made a throwaway comment about a town mentioned in the book he was reading. Rustlecall. It had caused Beau to promptly launch into a rant about some of the different wine regions of Wildemount, inside the Empire and outside of it, and Caleb was sure it had gone on for almost ten minutes.

His slightly confused question how she knew all this, and more importantly _why_ she still knew it, had been waved off with a remark about how she’d tried to actually understand her father’s business once. Years ago, as a teenager. Caleb knew very well that he wouldn’t have had any issue with retaining that information, but coming from Beau, it somehow still managed to surprise him every time. It shouldn’t, really, at this point. Unlike her admission that she apparently didn’t appreciate when people observed this particular skill about her. 

“Why? It’s not a bad thing.”

“Well not for you,” she muttered back, still refusing to look his way.

“You were send off to study with monks who are notorious for their way of preserving information, as well as keeping meticulous libraries,” he replied, casting dancing lights again as the room around them briefly plunged into darkness. It had gotten late. “Please explain how being booksmart, in that environment, is something _not_ to be desired.”

Beau’s neutral expression turned into a fierce glare, one that might have set the book ablaze if she was in any way magically inclined. “That’s putting it mildly,” she huffed, her shoulders loosing some of the tension again at her exhale though.

“My apologies, let me rephrase that,” Caleb admitted softly. “Your father had you abducted from you own home, both as retribution and punishment for things not only out of your control, but also things you should not be required to change.

That, at least, got her laugh, even if it was a rather humourless sound. “Sure, that sounds better. You could also say he was pissed that he _I_ was outside of his control, both would work.” With a sigh she finally closed her book and put it aside, before picking up Frumpkin from her lap and cradling him a bit closer to her chest instead. The cat chirped in reply before nuzzling against her bare throat, managing to replace the sour expression on her face with a smile again. “C'mon, I don’t really have to explain it, do I?” she mumbled, gently scratching Frumpkin behind the ears now even though her words were clearly meant for Caleb.

“No, I suppose not.” Maybe he would have started to do the same, fighting against everything he was supposed to be even as a child, if his family had been less supportive. If every attempt to go above any beyond their expectations by finding workarounds and introducing new ideas had been met with contempt instead of approval and wonder. “Would you like me to not call you that again, then?”  
  
“No.” Her answer was as short as it was surprising, but Caleb could see that she still seemed to be searching for the right words to explain it. A few moments later she had found them. “It doesn’t- it doesn’t actually sound bad when you say it. You know, like it’s actually something to be proud of instead of just another talent I’m wasting by not learning whatever someone considers to be the _right_ thing.”

“Well, knowledge is rarely wasted,” Caleb interjected. “It depends on what you are looking for, of course, but-”  
  
Beau interrupted him, her tone as abrasive again as always as she got up, pushing the chair back with her momentum. “Yeah, yeah, whatever dude.” Frumpkin made a noise of complaint and jumped from her arms back to the table, but still leaned into her hand as she reached out to pet him. “Just don’t say it on front of anyone else, or I _will_ punch you.”

“Duly noted,” he huffed, realising that the conversation was over for her. And since she seemed to be packing up now, he did the same. “Are we leaving?”

“Eh, it’s late. And I don’t know about you, but I could use some more of Caduceus’s cooking after those blueberry cupcakes. I think they just made me more hungry.”

“Good point,” he agreed, packing the last of his books and handwritten notes and stuffing them all in his leather bag, slinging it over his back as he followed her. “Which does remind me though, we should pick up some more on our way back, if just to appease Jester.”

“Sure,” she muttered, more or less gently slugging him in the shoulder as they stepped outside, Frumpkin prowling around their legs. “As long as you pay.”

He chuckled softly in reply but nodded. “Sure. I can do that.”


End file.
